


I May Not Be the Pillsbury Dough Boy, But ..

by techburst



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Fluff, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-31
Updated: 2012-12-31
Packaged: 2017-11-23 03:46:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,020
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/617732
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/techburst/pseuds/techburst
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Wash tries his hand at making cookies, and - unsurprisingly - fails pretty spectacularly. North rescues him, of course.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I May Not Be the Pillsbury Dough Boy, But ..

The first thing he notices is that there's flour _everywhere_. 

On the floor, on the counter, on the cabinets behind the sink – and all _over_ the man accountable for this mess in the first place. And North .. North can only lean against the doorframe with his arms folded over his chest, trying _very hard_ not to laugh and just barely managing to contain the small chuckle that seeks to betray him. 

(He's been hanging around York too much. Before now, he would have been able to hold a straight face at such an amusing sight, no matter what – he's really going to have to have a little chat with him later.)

"Wash .. what were you trying to _do_?" 

To his credit, the other at least manages to look just a little bit sheepish; his mouth is turned down on one side, a lopsided little scowl twisting his expression as he stares at the mess he's made. It isn't just that there's flour all over the place – that's .. just the most noticeable part, for sure. There are broken egg shells in the sink, sugar and baking powder mixed in with all that flour, and – 

_Is that a half-empty bag of chocolate chips?_

With that last one, he's almost _positive_ that York had to have been in here at some point. 

"I was trying to make cookies!" comes Wash's hurried reply, and when he looks up at North, his eyes are so wide that it almost looks like he's about to cry. (Which .. is kind of adorable, if he stops and thinks about it long enough, but .. maybe right now isn't the best time.) "I thought .. it would have been nice for you to come back to, y'know? Since you and York both had a mission and I didn't .. I was just trying to do something nice and it fuckin' backfired on me." 

.. There's a smudge of white just on one side of Wash's nose – it has to have been from wiping his face with his hands covered in flour – and North is _still_ having such a hard time trying to keep from laughing that he has to cover his mouth. "What made you decide on cookies?" he asks through the tiny spaces between his fingers. 

Wash just shrugs. "Everybody likes cookies, don't they?" 

Well .. that's pretty much true. At least, around here. North hasn't seen a single member of the Project that doesn't like cookies, except .. he isn't sure. Utah doesn't ever seem to show any particular interest in them whenever they're around, and he's thought on more than one occasion that he's just the slightest bit .. _strange_. 

But that's neither here nor there. 

"Hm .." North hums softly in the back of his throat as he finally pushes himself away from the door, stepping into the kitchen and peering at the mess in front of him. It _does_ seem salvageable, with a little bit of care and practice, of course. Which has him rolling up the ends of his sleeves without another word, lightly bumping the smaller man to the side as he starts trying to clean up. 

Flour. _Everywhere_. 

"I think we can still make something of this," he says, turning his head just enough to grin at Wash as he reaches for one of the mostly-empty mixing bowls, rinsing it out and wiping it clean. "Do you still have some of the flour left, or did you manage to get it everywhere but in the bowl?" 

Wash just blinks at him for a second, head tilted to the side in the _utmost_ confusion. ".. Huh?" 

And North .. can't help but to laugh this time. "Flour, Wash. Is there any left?"

"Oh! Yeah, uh .. hold on, lemme get it –" 

He ducks behind the counter to retrieve the (almost-empty) bag of flour, setting it next to the bowl North is now meaning to use and peering up at him _very_ inquisitively. "What are you doing?" 

"Helping you make cookies. What else?" 

There's a stark, sudden silence, and then Wash's arms are wrapped tightly around North's waist, face buried in the side of his neck – and North doesn't think he's ever been so amused or _endeared_ by anything the other man has done before in his life. 

"Oh my god, _thank you_ Thankyouthankyou _thankyou_." All of this, of course, is muffled against his shirt and pretty difficult to hear, but North makes it out just fine, and only ends up brushing his fingers through short, soft hair in response. 

When Wash pulls back, he doesn't quite let go, but at least it doesn't look like he's trying to suffocate himself anymore. "Since when do you know how to bake?" 

"Since forever. Growing up, South went through these phases where she would only eat sweet stuff .. and our parents weren't exactly for that, so .. I had to sneak them to her." He pauses, again, reaching around that smaller body to start pouring ingredients into the bowl. "I started out with sugar cookies, because they're pretty simple. Worked my way up to chocolate chip, and once I'd mastered those? _Peanut butter_. I'm surprised she didn't turn into a cookie with how many she ate." 

He falls quiet, nostalgia flooding him, and Wash seems to pick up on that – when he finally extracts himself from that larger body, he ends up resting against the edge of the counter, watching North's movements as though they simply _baffle_ him. 

They might. You never know. 

North's voice doesn't pick up again until he motions for what's left of the bag of chocolate chips. "You want to mix these in? I've taken out all the risk factors of you making another mess. It's safe, I promise." And he's grinning, grinning like he can't possibly stop to save his life, and while he's fully expecting Wash to scowl at him .. all he does is take the bowl and spoon from him, a small little smile curving his mouth as he works on mixing it all together. 

When they come out of the oven, Wash, of course, gets the first one – 

And promptly ends up hugging him again. 

North .. he just smiles.


End file.
